


Everlong

by Plaided_Ani



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adult Language, Drinking, Drug Use, Multi, Polyamory, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-24 06:23:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14949281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plaided_Ani/pseuds/Plaided_Ani
Summary: The world has gone to shit. You’ve got the undead trying to eat your flesh, a whining teenager to look after, and a few secrets that you need to keep. The Winchesters are the last thing you need, but the only thing you want.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt to write in a very, very long time. Please, I would love any and all feedback!

According to Trevor, the high school freshman you found alone and scared, huddled in a Gas ‘n Sip, it had been 173 days since the dead started rising and 4 since you’ve had more than a half can of peaches each. “Stop complaining and look around,” you snapped at him, shoving him down the aisle of the grocery store, though the shelves were heavily scavenged by the time you got there. 

“‘Sno use,” he whined, but shuffled along, backpack open and ready.

You headed two aisles over looking for first aid or hygiene items, not that the latter meant much anymore since you were both caked in dirt and the last time you found running water it was barely deep enough for you to drink out of. Still, you were low on bandages and antiseptic, both of which Trevor needed with the nasty cut he got a couple of days ago, the last thing you needed was it to get infected. 

“Pork and beans,” he called out through the shelves, “I hate pork and beans.”

“Food’s food,” you replied, picking up an open box of tampons, weighing the options of needing them. You dump what’s left into the front pocket of your bag and moved on, finding a couple boxes of bandaids and a package of gauze. “Find any crackers?”

“Two boxes,” Trevor confirmed. “You?”

“Not as much as I hoped.” You found your way down the toiletry aisle. There was floss left, which would help in a desperate need for sutures, and couple bottles of mouthwash. You dumped what you could in your pack and rejoined the teen to toss whatever canned thing you could find and carry. “It’s gonna get dark soon.” He nodded and zipped up his backpack, shouldering it with a grunt. 

The creak of the door on the far side of the store caused you both to freeze. Trevor’s eyes widened, his fingers closed around the axe that hung from his side. You nodded once and pulled out the pistol from the back of your waistband and you two tiptoed towards the sound.

“Two ganked,” a voice rumbled from the stockroom making your blood run cold. Geeks you could have handle, but humans were another issue. 

“These look like fresh kills,” a second voice noted. You motioned for Trevor to get behind you and pressed up against the wall near the door. “We should try the next store.”

“It’s getting dark,” the first voice sighed and pushed the doors open towards you, blocking your view for a moment, “if there’s anyone in here, we’ll just ask for a couple of cans and head out, no harm done.”

The second man snorted, following the first through into the main part of the store, “It took the zombie apocalypse to help you find your manners?”

“I’ve always had manners,” the first guy paused, rounding on the second, taller man, and pointed a finger, “I only used them when necessary.” His eyes left his partner and landed on you and Trevor, both stiff from fear, but weapons drawn in defense. “Oh, woah, hey,” he greeted, putting both of his hands in the air when you cocked your gun.

The taller man turned slowly to face you, his hands going up like the other’s, face pulled into a worried pout. “Hey there, we’re friendly.” 

The skeptical look on your face had them exchange glances and the shorter guy stepped forward, hands still raised, “Don’t shoot, alright? I’m Dean, this is Sam. We’re here just looking for food like you are, probably. You must’ve heard us, right? We’ll get a couple of cans and head on our way.”

You kept your gun pointed at then, but you turned to catch a glimpse of Trevor. The poor kid was white knuckling the handle of his axe, but he gave you a silent nod. “There’s a few left,” you tell them, nodding your chin towards the shelves nearby.

“Thanks,” the one named Sam smiled and started to back away.

“You mind lowering your gun,” Dean chuckled lightly, clearly in no way actually nervous.

Your face hardened, “Sorry, Dean, but I can’t.” The last guy you trusted took your hunting rifle and three days worth of food, breaking Trevor’s ribs in the process. The poor kid had been through enough already, you were not going to put him in harm’s way again.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, “okay, I get it.” He looked from you to Trevor, offering the boy a smile which was hesitantly returned. “You’re lucky you’ve got your big sis looking after you.”

“She’s not my sister,” Trevor mumbled, but stepped closer to you.

“Family don’t end in blood, kid. If she’s watching out for you like this, she’s your sister,” Dean insisted. There was no further protest from Trevor, but he didn’t agree, either. You knew the kid’s backstory, you weren’t offended, but it looked like Dean was.“You two got names?”

“Y/N,” you stiffly replied. “This is Trevor.” Your eyes left Dean for a moment and scanned the store for Sam. You could hear cans being dropped into his pack. “Sun’s getting low, you two should probably get going.”

“Sammy,” Dean shouted over his shoulder, “we good?”

“Yeah,” Sam called back, accompanied by the zip of his bag. His hands were back in the air when he returned, a soft smile on his face, “thanks.”

“Don’t need to thank me,” you shrugged, “I don’t own the store.”

“Sweetheart, you’ve got a 9mm pointed at our faces, you own whatever you want,” Dean quipped which earned a sigh from Sam. “But we got what we needed, we’ll head out.” He nudged Sam to go first and he started to follow. “Unless you two wanna tag along?”

Your eyes narrowed and you could feel Trevor stiffen beside you. “I think we’re better on our own, Dean, no offense.”

“Hey,” he said with a half smile, “none taken. You seem like good people and you can obviously handle yourself. We just thought we could help you get you to where you needed to be. Me and my brother used to hunt all kinds of weird crap before the world went to shit, we kept people like you safe from stuff like it. Still do, I guess.”

“What do you mean,” you asked as you took a step back towards Trevor. Whoever these guys were, they obviously had a few screws loose and you didn’t want them any closer to the boy.

“Zombies aren’t the only thing out there. We were in Maine handling a nest of vampires when this shit went down,” Dean explained which you scoffed at. “Oh, so dead people popping up and eating flesh is acceptable, but vampires aren’t?”

Trevor squeaked, “I believe you.”

“Smart kid,” Dean smiled and tossed a wink the boy’s way. 

“It took you five months to get from Maine to Georgia,” you asked skeptically. 

“We took some detours,” Sam interjected. “Believe it or not, this isn’t the first apocalypse that’s we’ve been apart of.”

Dean rolled his shoulders annoyance, “Just the only one that happened to actually slip by and happen.”

“Anyway,” Sam rolled his eyes, “we thought we could reverse it, you know? Like it was some kind of demonic virus, but those would be more 28 Days Later than Dawn of the Dead.”

“I thought it was some kind of wish, like some kid in mom’s basement wanted to live out a video game,” Dean threw in with a scowl.  
“But there’s nothing powerful enough to grant a wish on this kind of scale,” Sam countered, slightly annoyed with his brother’s interruptions. “But, we thought we’d head to the CDC to see if they had anything there.”

“We ran out of gas just outside of Jasper, been hoofin’ it ever since,” Dean finished. 

“The CDC’s gone,” you tell them. “Those things are swarming the place. Everyone had the same idea as you, I guess.” The brothers exchanged a look and Dean muttered a few expletives. “There’s a rumor that Fort Benning is supposed to be safe, but when’s that ever worked on in a zombie movie?”

Dean grinned at that, but turned his attention back to Sam, “Well, we’ve gotta have something in the bunker about this, guess we should just head home.”

“Bunker? Are you guys like those Doomsday people,” you ribbed.

“Not really,” Sam shook his head, “it’s kind of hard to explain. It was built a while ago, but it could withstand a nuke. There’s plenty of space.” The look he gave you was a silent question and one that peaked your interest. You didn’t know these guys from a hole in the ground and they were bat-shit crazy, but if they had a bunker, it’d be somewhere safe until you figured something out or the world ended completely or they murdered you in your sleep. “It’s in Kansas.”

“What makes you sure it’s still safe?” You can hear Trevor move from behind you. He trusted you with his life, but these guys looked like they were built for this, comfortable in world full of crazy. You weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but Trevor was going to go with them given the chance and you knew it.

“It’s the safest place on earth, nothing from heaven or hell could get in,” Dean bragged, “so I’m sure it could keep a few zombies out. So, if you wanna come along, we can keep you safe, just as long as you don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like trust two guys we just met who are spouting off crap about demons,” you chaffed.

“Yeah,” Sam chuckled, “like that.” 

You didn’t need to look at Trevor to know his answer, but you did. There was a hopeful look in his eyes, one you hadn’t seen since you found him weeks ago. “Fine,” you sighed and finally put away your gun, “but if you even look at him funny, I will kill you.”

The brothers put their hands up in submission once again. “You’re the boss, lady,” Dean yielded. “But we should get going. We’ve got a place a mile east of here and dark’s gonna come quick.” Your own camp was in the opposite direction, but held nothing of importance, just a spot you knew was safe, at least for the night. 

Sam was the first out, Trevor on his heels, while you fell into step with Dean to bring up the rear. “How’d you end up with the kid?”

You side eyed Dean at his question and hooked your thumbs into the straps of your pack. “Found him in a gas station near Macon. He was held up in the broom closet, alone and starving. I don’t know how he survived, but his family got attacked there. I cleaned the place out and found him huddled up there.”

“What are you like a super soldier,” Dean teased.

“I had someone with me at the time,” you rolled your eyes. “But Trevor’s been on my ass ever since. He’s a good kid, really smart, really good with electronics and shit. Hotwired all the cars we came across.” 

Dean hummed in acknowledgement. “So what happened to the other person?”

Your shoulders tensed and your jaw clenched, “Long story.”

“Ah,” he nodded, smart enough to drop it. “We found a group two weeks in, they were nice people, but stupid as hell. We managed to get them to Tennessee and they decided they were better off held up in a cabin. Sam and I went to do some digging on this mess, came back to check on ‘em, all turned.”

“Seems to be the way of the world now,” you frowned. “Can’t afford to make attachments.” Your eyes were trained on the back of Trevor’s head. He and Sam were getting along from the way he was animatedly talking. 

“Well, you gotta keep family close,” Dean disagreed. “You won’t be able to survive alone in a world like this.”

“My family’s probably dead,” you replied evenly.

Dean shook his head. “That kid obviously needs you and I’m guessing you’d die before you let anything about to him.” Your silent scowl was answer enough. “We’ll keep you guys safe, just don’t go looking for trouble.”

Your frown deepened, but you remained silent. The two of you watched Sam and Trevor talk, mostly about the vampires the guys mentioned before. “So, on top of zombies, we gotta worry about vampires,” you grumbled.

“Haven’t ran into any since the start of all this, but yeah, they could still be a threat. Werewolves, demons, freaking angels,” Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s not enough that we have to deal with that shit every day, but now actual zombies.”

You exhaled, your face pinched, “Is there anything else I need to worry about?”

“Other humans,” Dean offered jokingly. 

“Yeah, they’re already on my radar,” you make a show of eyeing him warily. If Sam and Dean wanted to hurt you, they would’ve tried it already. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened and probably not the last. Even if they were playing the long con, you wouldn’t let them get very far, at least not without putting up a fight.

Dean laughed hardily and shook his head, “Normally I’d be offended, but it looks like you’ve been through some shit, so I can’t blame you. Trust me, if we wanted to hurt you, we would’ve. Me and Sammy are people persons, pillars of the community.”

“Seems like it,” you snorted. 

“Y/N,” Trevor turned to look at you, “Sam says that their bunker has a whole library of magic.”

“I keep telling you, kiddo, Hogwarts isn’t real,” you deadpanned, but that didn’t sour Trevor’s mood one bit. He turned right back to Sam and the two continued their conversation. “Now he’s never gonna leave you alone.”

“Sam can handle him,” Dean assured you with his gaze bouncing between the two. “They’re two peas in a nerdy pod.” 

You followed the Sam along the road, stopping only to deal with a few stray walkers. It was dusk and zombie activity always kicked up at night for whatever reason, so you hoped you could get somewhat close to their camp before the hordes started to form. Dean must’ve felt the same as he tilted his head up the sky and squinted, “Shouldn’t have wasted all that time back there.”

You should’ve felt guilty, but you didn’t. “You could’ve left us.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “but Sam would’ve felt guilty and made us go back and find you. Trust me, it saved us the headache.”

Your eyes raked over Sam’s tall frame, his broad shoulders shook lightly with laughter. “I’m guessing he’s the bleeding heart?”

Dean followed your gaze to his brother, “Sometimes. Every man’s got a soft side.”

Your lips pulled up into a grin and you turned your attention to the man next to you, “What does yours look like?”

“Maybe you’ll find out,” he replied coolly. 

“You two are gross,” Trevor called back to you. 

“Shut up and keep walking, bud,” you reached out to lightly shove at the kid’s shoulders. Trevor whined in returned, turning to bat at you playfully before getting lost in another conversation with Sam. “This is the most relaxed I’ve seen him in a long time.”

“You gotta feel for him,” Dean sighed. “I mean he’s probably been worried he’d lose you, too. At least he knows you’re safe now.” You raised a brow. “You’ve got more eyes watching your back,” he expanded. “You know, I’m sure you kick ass, but you look like shit, sweetheart, no offense.”

“I haven’t slept more than two hours in the last three days,” you quietly confessed. “I’m running on caffeine pills and a slowly breaking will.”

Dean sucked on his teeth. “Well, as soon as we get back to camp, you’re crashing. I got a bedroll with your name on it.” Both your brows shot up at the implication and he held up a hand, “Relax, I’ll be taking the first watch.” 

“Mhm,” you murmured, eyes narrowing. 

“Fine, Sam can take first watch and we can snuggle up real tight,” Dean murmured playfully.

“I’d rather sleep alone,” you admitted, “at least until I can see straight.” You two shared a grin and fell silent, keeping watch for any more threats while the two up front yammered on.

It was night by the time you got the house they squatted in, its fence lined with cans on a string, a primitive alarm system, but at least it would work on walkers. The tiny one story home had a split floor plan that allowed you and Trevor to pass out on one side and Sam and Dean to keep watch on the other. 

Just as he said, Dean spread out their bedrolls for the both of you. “Thank you,” you whispered as Trevor curled up on Sam’s asleep almost immediately.

“Said we’d take care of you,” he shrugged and started to leave, but you caught his wrist. “Want me to stay,” he teased and slid up to you, slowly licking his lips.

“I’m serious, Dean. You guys didn’t have to do this, thank you,” you reiterated earnestly. 

“‘Swhat we do, sweetheart.” He placed a hand over yours and gave it a squeeze. When you released your hold on him, he winked. “Get some rest. Sam might sneak in here, too. He snores, but you get used to it.” With that, he was gone and you collapsed onto the small padding Dean called his and promptly fell asleep.

It felt like your head had just hit the pillow when ya large hand close around your shoulder and squeezed. You jerked awake, but another hand covered your mouth and Sam shushed you. “Four outside,” he mouthed and jutted his chin towards the window. You nodded and looked over to Trevor who was still sound asleep. “Gun. Stay,” Sam added before scurrying out of the room to rejoin Dean.

You pulled out your gun and crawled over to the window to peek outside. There were four men that had made it over the fence and were clearing up the walkers that were roaming along the perimeter. Obviously the cans were a double edge sword since it meant that a house was occupied and a prime target for ill meaning looters.

The group split up, circling the house, two in front, two in back. You fell onto your hands and knees and crawled to pop your head out of the doorway. Dean caught sight of you and you did your best to signal to him, bue shook his head and motioned for you to go back into the room. 

You slid back into the room with a silent grumble and closed the door enough for you see through the crack, but there was no eyeline to either door or of Dean or Sam. You could, however, hear the soft creak of a door opening and faint footsteps on the hardwood floors. The intruders were careful, it was obvious they were seasoned.

A second door opened and more footsteps followed, the group slowly slinking through the house. As quiet and cautious as they were, they didn’t expect the brothers to get the jump on them. There was hard smack of skin to skin and someone toppled into a wall. Several grunts and growls were exchanged, punches and air leaving lungs. 

There was a resonating tink that made Sam cry out, “Dean,” before groaning himself and more blows were traded. You looked to Trevor, but the boy didn’t wake despite all the noise. You needed to help, but you didn’t want to leave your charge. 

Someone cried out in pain and you set down the gun, reaching for the axe that laid next to the teen. The gun would’ve ended things quickly, but it would’ve also drawn walkers around for miles and any other curious idiot that happened to be out at night.

You crept out of the room and down the hall to find one guy already laid out and Dean exchanging blows with another. Two had Sam locked up and used as a punching bag. These guys had knives and possibly guns, why they hell weren’t they using them? 

Sam locked eyes with you and before his captor could get out a warning, you slammed the butt of the axe to the back of the assailant’s head and he crumpled to the ground. Taking advantage of your sudden appearance, Sam was able to slam his head back into the other’s face and take the guy down.

“You’ve got some great timing, sweetheart,” Dean panted, wiping the blood from the side of his mouth. “Help us tie these guys up? There’s rope in our packs.” You nodded and set the axe aside as you searched through the two bags near the couch. Behind you, the boys dragged the limp bodies together and you tossed Sam the first coil of rope and Dean the other once you found them. 

“You alright,” you frowned, noticing Dean’s split lip and Sam’s red cheek. 

“We’ve had worse,” Dean shrugged it off and searched the men for weapons, tossing them near you and the packs. “What the hell were these guys doing?”

“A piss poor job of scavenging,” you offered, picking up a machete for yourself, but placed the rest in one of their bags. 

Dean grumbled and shook his head as he headed over to you. “You head back to bed, we’ll deal with these guys.” Your gaze shifted to the tied up men on the floor and back to Dean, a deep frown on your face. “We’re not gonna to kill them, just wanna ask them some questions and we’ll toss ‘em out in the morning.”

You looked to Sam who gave you a confirming nod, a silent promise. “Any trouble, you’ll wake us,” you turned back to Dean, not questioning but demanding. 

“Scouts honor,” he grinned. You huffed in annoyance, but took the machete and axe back with you, leaving the door open upon your return. You placed Trevor’s axe back where it belonged, secured the machete to your pack, and moved the gun under your pillow for quick access. 

As much as you wanted to stay up to hear the interrogation, you were out the moment you closed your eyes for the second time that night. When you woke the next morning, you were alone and the low mumble of voices carried through the halls. 

You shuffled your way to the living room where Dean and Sam were having a quiet, heated discussion that stopped as soon as you came into view. “Something wrong,” you yawned, searching for the four guys they captured last night.

“We’re leaving,” Trevor informed you, spooning pineapple into his mouth. You nodded and shrugged your shoulders in compliance, but the three stared at you questioningly. “Y/N, it’s…”

“Get packing, kid,” Dean interrupted him. You squared up at his tone, but Trevor sheepishly slipped out of the room. “You wanna tell us who Matt is?” A cold chill ran through you and you shook your head. “Those guys? They were his, said that been following you for days.”

“I told you, it’s a long story,” you said dismissively. “If we’re going, then we need to do it soon.”

Sam moved to you to place a comforting hand on your shoulder, “If this guy is threatening you, we can help.”

“You can help by dropping it and getting us to your bunker or whatever,” you shrugged him off. “You two beat the shit out of those guys, I doubt anyone else is gonna come around. You proved a point, Matt’ll drop it.” Neither brother looked convinced. “Look, you said you didn’t want us to bring you trouble, so take Trevor. I’ll head out and you guys can be on your way.”

“You’re just going to leave him,” Dean snapped, stomping over to you with a red tinge to his cheeks. Sam put an arm across his brother’s chest to hold him back, but Dean wasn’t going to hurt you, you all knew that. “And you’re stupid if you think we’re gonna let you go out there on your own.”

Your face twisted into pure offense and anger, “Let me? You met me less than a day ago and you think you have some kind of hold over me?”

“He didn’t mean it like that,” Sam sighed, that worried pout back on his face. “Think of Trevor, alright? He’s the one that told us about Matt, what he did. He’s worried about you.” Your nostrils flared and your teeth audibly ground together. You knew the kid meant well, but it wasn’t his place to say anything. “Look, just let us get you as far away from here as we can and if you still wanna leave when we’re safe enough, then you can.”

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but one heated look from you shut him up. “Fine,” you spat. 

Sam released his hold on Dean and gave you a worried half smile, “I’ll go help Trevor.” He patted your shoulder as he passed and slipped out of the room to leave you and Dean alone, steam still coming from both of your ears.

“You’re going to be a pain in my ass,” Dean sighed and headed over to secure their things. 

“Yeah, I can say the same about you,” you shot back, arms crossed over your chest, your body still pumping with adrenaline. “But promise me that whatever happens, you’ll keep Trevor safe.” He didn’t look up from his task, but he nodded. “Say it, Dean.”

There was hesitation, but he stopped and looked at you, face straight, “We’ll take care of him.”

You accepted his declaration and moved to help him. “I owe you.” 

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, a grin tugging at his lips, “you do.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the boy make your way to the Impala, but make camp for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to every who is taking the time to read this. I appreciate every single one of you. And for those who left kudos and comments, you have my heart.
> 
> Please, i would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you!

Most of the morning was spent searching through abandoned cars for gas cans or anything else that would be useful. Trevor was able to find a suitcase full of books, the pair of you sorting through them as Dean and Sam fanned out to siphon from the vehicles around you. “D’ya know what I miss the most,” you asked the teen as you tossed aside Twilight.

“Showers,” he replied, reading the back of a cover.

“Yes,” you nodded but rounded the car to climb in the back, snatching the floppy sun hat you spotted, “but also the beach.” You placed the oversized straw hat atop your head, the brim falling around you as you searched the rest of the seat.

“I thought you were from D.C.,” Trevor looked through the rear window to watch you curiously.

You deadpanned and looked pointedly at him to roll your eyes at his ignorance. “People once left their houses for vacations, Trevor,” you sarcastically replied, shoving on gaudy black sunglasses. “I wanted to be a mermaid when I was little.”

“I wanted to be a Transformer,” he shared in understanding and went back to his book. 

“All hail Megatron,” you cried out and climbed back out of the car to spot a curious walker coming to join you. Trevor didn’t bother to move since you already had out your machete and slammed it into the middle of the creature’s forehead. 

“Nice one, Audrey Hepburn,” Sam teased, popping up from the back of a pickup. 

You winked, but it was hidden behind oversized plastic. “I also miss movies,” you sighed and wiped off the zombie goo on the poor thing’s dirty shirt. “And sex.” 

“Gross,” Trevor gagged and packed away the few books he found interesting, leaving out The Hobbit. He ignored your mocking gags and joined Sam to help if he could. 

You wove your way through the cars, peeking in to find nothing of interest, and ended up sitting on the trunk of an Accord as Dean pumped out what little gas it had. “Where in the hell did you get that,” he laughed when he finally shifted his focus. 

“Why, does it look bad,” you frowned, grabbing the top of the hat to flatten the sides with your arms. 

“Nah, looks a little out of place with dirty jeans and a ratty tank top, though.” Your shocked gasp had him grinning and you leaned across the trunk to punch his shoulder. “There’s gotta be a dress in one of these cars.”

You shook your head, “I haven’t worn a dress since my high school prom and I don’t think it’ll be good for running from zombies.”

“Well, you won’t be running forever,” Dean reminded you, hoping you’d forget your threat to leave.

“Yeah,” you sighed, hopping off the car, “maybe.” You slipped away and searched further ahead, scoring a few abandoned cans of food and possibly keeping a lookout for a sundress to match your new accessories. 

Trevor soon caught up with you, his nose stuck in the book. From the way he clutched at its pages, he was still on alert, leaning against the hood of a SUV you were picking through. “You could help,” Sam reprimanded him, setting down a full gas can and started to fill a new one.

“Let him read,” you called from deep within the truck, “it’s not like I’m doing much to contribute, either.” Sam couldn’t argue with that and moved in front of the open door to see what you were doing. “What?”

He tilted his head curiously, looking at the sheer cami you held up to your chest, “Planning on keeping that?”

“It’s cute,” you grumbled as a blush tinged your cheeks. When he chuckled, you balled up the top and threw it at his face. “Don’t you have something to do?” He caught the shirt with a grin and moved back to his gas can. “Oof, score.” You kicked around in the backseat until you reached your claim and jumped out of the truck, guitar in hand. 

“Do you play,” Sam asked, holding the hose steady.

“A little.” You slid the strap around your shoulders, carefully cradling the neck. Your fingers danced along the strings, testing and tuning. “My guilty pleasure was the banjo, though.” A somber tune carried with the breeze, your eyes closing as you plucked each note. “At least we can still have music.”

You fought the boys about keeping the guitar. You told them it was too much weight, it wasn’t necessary, but like the big brimmed hat and large rimmed glasses on your head, they deemed it so. Loads were shifted and you were still able to carry your pack and the instrument on your back, half-full gas can in hand. 

The plan was to make it Jasper and fill up Dean’s car who he affectionately called Baby, making Trevor giggle every time. According to Sam, the walk was about a half a day, and with you all stopping to scavenge, you’d have to camp at some point. But the sun was still high and you felt rested, there was plenty of time to cover.

“So,” Sam stayed back with you, Dean and bookworm Trevor taking point, “you’re from D.C.?” 

“Born and raised,” you trilled. 

“Did you ever meet the president,” he asked with a half grin. 

“I was in the same building as Obama once,” you bragged with a smug sniffle and pursed lips. 

Sam whistled low, “Impressive.” You elbowed him and he laughed freely, causing Trevor and Dean to look over their shoulders at you. “What?” They shook their heads, Dean giving a disapproving frown, but turned back around to keep watch since you and Sam were preoccupied. 

“So, were you in D.C. when this started,” he inquired, trying and failing to be nonchalant.

“No,” you replied flatly and turned your attention off into the woods, the memory dulling your playful mood, “I was on vacation in Savannah. The first one I had in a really long time and then some asshole decides to die and start eating someone else’s face.”

“Yeah, I guess that could put a downer on things,” Sam consoled.

You turned to him with a half-confused, half-amused expression and tossed your head back to laugh, “The zombie apocalypse started, Sammy, it’s not like I lost my pet goldfish.”

His eyes bugged slightly, but he was laughing along with you, arms spread, “What am I supposed to say to that?”

“I don’t know,” you returned, “but something other than, ‘Oh, I’m sorry the undead ruined your summer vacation’?”

“But I am,” Sam insisted.

“What, the world ending is your fault,” you snorted. 

“Probably,” he answered honestly, “wouldn’t be the first time.” You opened your mouth and then remembered their talks of demons and angels. “This sucks, I know, but we’ll figure out a way to fix it.”

“With magic,” Trevor’s head shot up and around, nearly giving himself whiplash. The smile on Sam’s face grew at the teen’s enthusiasm and shrugged, keeping it a possibility. “Hogwarts,” the boy turned you, sass flooding his voice. 

“I’m about to Wingardium Leviosa your ass,” you pointed at him, “and I won’t need a wand or magic to do it.”

“That’s impossible,” Trevor stated matter-of-factly.

You narrowed your eyes behind your glasses and scowled, “I’m stronger than I look.”

“Alright,” Dean sighed, slapping a hand on Trevor’s shoulder, “let’s not upset the lady with the big ass knife.”

“She started it,” Trevor grumbled, but he turned back around and fell into his book once more. 

Dean silently reprimanded you with a playful glower and you lifted your shoulders with no regret. “But seriously, can I actually Wingardium Leviosa him,” you asked Sam quietly.

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed, “I don’t think that’s the exact wording, but I’ve been sent flying by enough witches to know it’s possible.” You pulled off your glasses, your head tilted back to see him properly under the hat, lips forming the perfect ‘o’. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m fashionable,” you corrected, poking him with the plastic frames, but the two of you continued your talk about witches and actual magic. Dean’s disdain for anything and everything witch related seeped into your conversation, every detail Sam gave was followed by another reason why his brother hated magic. And even with all the bad that came from Dean’s stories, Trevor still wanted to learn at least one spell.

Morning turned to afternoon and the four of you left the interstate, following an exit to head towards the first neighborhood you could find. There were a few geeks along the way, you and Dean took out most of them while Sam kept Trevor close. 

A couple gas stations and fast food restaurants lined the road. The group considered stopping for supplies, but everyone was at their limit. The thought of dinner crossed everyone’s mind and it was decided you’d stop by tomorrow to replenish what stock you would lose that evening. 

A few miles on, an abandoned subdivision was the best bet for the night. It was well off the main highway, but a few stubborn walkers loitered, Sam and Dean taking them out while you and Trevor searched for a suitable house. “This one has a pool,” the teen called out, face pressed the back sliding door while you cleared the rooms. “The water’s clean.”

“Awesome,” you shouted back, deeming the place geek free. “I call dibs on the master bedroom.” You raced across the house and dumped your things on the bed. Trevor let out a complaining whine, but he searched for the next bed and claimed it as his own. 

Sam and Dean secured the perimeter and all of the entrances of the house before finding out that there was one twin bed left or the couch in the living room. “You’re going to leave the tallest guys with the shortest beds,” Sam complained, finding you sprawled on your belly across the king sized mattress.

“You snooze, you lose,” you mumbled into the sheets. 

When he said nothing in return, you lifted your head to catch his gaze shifting from your backside to your eyes. “What,” he blinked. 

“Seriously,” you snorted, letting your head fall back onto the bed. “If you want the bed, we can share it, there’s plenty of room.”

There was hesitation, but Sam agreed, “Yeah, okay. If you’re sure.” He slipped back out of the room to gather his stuff. When he didn’t return right away, you rolled gracelessly off the bed and went off to investigate. 

Dean had already started dinner, using the open kitchen layout to work. Trevor was sitting with him, near the window to catch the last bits of sunlight to read. “Need any help,” you offered, watching Sam open a can of beans with his knife. 

“We’ve all agreed to have you not do anything,” Dean informed you, adjusting the heat of the small burner, “at least until you stop looking like you’re about to keel over.”

“I’m fine,” you recoiled defensively.

Trevor turned the page of his book and didn’t bother looking up, “You’ve got these big, dark circles under your eyes. I think they want those to go away.” Your jaw opened in all out offense and the brothers shared a wide-eyed look before turning it on Trevor.

“Dude,” Dean hissed, “you never comment on a woman’s appearance like that.”

“You told her she looked like shit yesterday,” Trevor rebuked, finally looking up. 

“Yeah and I’m lucky she didn’t rip off my head,” Dean growled. “Just…if you think a woman should rest, just tell her she’s worked hard and deserves it.”

Trevor put down the book and tilted his head, “So lie?”

“I’ve worked hard,” you interrupted, “you don’t think I have?”

“No,” Trevor said then quickly corrected himself, “I mean, yes, you have, I’m just saying…”

Sam and Dean shook their head slowly, trying to get the boy to stop while he was ahead, but the damage was done. “Wow,” you huffed, taking a can of pineapple and Sam’s knife from his hand, “I’ll be in my room.” You turned up your nose at the three of them and stomped off, snapping the bedroom door closed for emphasis. 

You could hear their voices trying to talk over one another and you did your best to quiet your laughter. It was a teaching moment for Trevor, the brothers had to know have known you weren’t actually upset. 

After kicking off your boots and wiggling out of your jeans, you climbed onto the bed and rested against the middle of the headboard to have your pre-dinner snack. The voices eventually died down and a knock came to the door soon after. You looked down at your bare legs and asked who it was. 

Dean opened the door without invitation and paused, head tilted. “Expecting me, I see,” he grinned and slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. 

“What do you want,” you rolled your eyes, pulling chunks of fruit off the tip of the knife.

“Was gonna tell you dinner was ready, but it looks like you took whole relaxation thing to heart,” he moved to the edge of the bed, shamelessly running his eyes up and down your frame. Your dirt speckled body and hairy legs didn’t stop him from licking his lips. “You need some company on that bed?”

“Sam already said he’d join me,” you speared a few pieces and moved onto your knees, crawling over to offer some to Dean. “But like I told him, there’s plenty of room.”

Green eyes flickered down to the knife and back to you before his teeth bit down to the blade and he slowly pulled off the chunks. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for, darlin’,” he purred, lips shining with juice. 

“Oh, I think I do,” you nodded and sat back down on your hunches, “But I don’t think this world is cut out for stuff like that anymore.” You ran you tongue along the knife, licking up the remnants of juice left behind and flipped it closed. 

“Wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Dean watched you closely and held his hand out for the blade, “it might be exactly what this world is made for.” You handed him the knife and the half empty can, slipping off the bed to pull on your jeans. 

You turned to him, one brow cocked, a playful grin tugging at the corner of your lips, “Yeah, maybe.” Your eyes dragged over his broad frame and you exhaled slowly. “Dinner, right?” He nodded and you lead the way back to Trevor and Sam who were already sat at the small table, their bowls full.

“Y/N,” Trevor greeted you, an earnest look on his face, “I’m sorry about what I said. It was bad wording.”

You flopped down next to the boy and place a hand on his bushy afro, “I accept your apology, kiddo.” Your fingers dug into the thick curls and you clicked your tongue, “You need a haircut.” Trevor slapped you away and did his best to tame his mane. 

“Give me ten minutes and some clippers,” Dean nodded slowly, eyes squinting like he was envisioning a masterpiece. 

“No,” Trevor shook his head immediately, “I don’t trust you anywhere near me with anything sharp.”

“Smart kid,” Sam quipped, spooning you a bowl. He slid it across the table and you thanked him with a smile. “He gave me haircuts when we were younger, he put a actual bowl on my head.”

Dean, extremely offended, put down his spoon and pointed straight at Sam, “I did my best, okay? I was a kid, too. I got a lot better. Took about 20 years, but at least the lines are straight now. Kind of.”

“I’ll cut your hair,” you reassure Trevor. “I used to groom my dogs, it’s kind of the same thing, right?”

Trevor rounded on you, “Are you comparing me to a dog?”

“No! I was just saying,” you sputtered, kicking Dean under the table when he started to laugh and you would have kicked Sam but your legs couldn’t reach that far, “that I did a good job cutting hair! I can cut yours.” 

The teen’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t fight you on it anymore. “Well, we don’t have clippers, so you can’t cut my hair.” That was obviously the end of that conversation and you conceded, at least for now. 

“So, do you think we’ll make it to your car by nightfall tomorrow,” you asked.

“Maybe, if we don’t make any long stops,” Dean reasoned. “I don’t think we’ll have enough gas to get home, but we’ll cross that bridge, y’know?” You grimaced, but nodded, the idea of having no what-if plan ready didn’t sit well with you, but you all had plenty of time to figure one out.

Trevor didn’t seem to have interest in the conversation and shoved down pork and beans with a slight annoyed look on his face. He didn’t like it, he’s told you a million times, but he was hungry. 

“You know,” Sam cleared his throat, looking behind you and out to the pool, “it might be cold and full of chlorine, but it’s water…” You spun around to look out of the large picture window and nodded. “Ladies first, of course.” 

“You are a genius,” you chirped when spun back around to finish off your meal.

Sam shook his head and pointed at Trevor with his spoon, “All his idea.”

You leaned over and pressed an exaggerated kiss on the boy’s forehead. “Love you, T,” you murmured but were pushed back into your chair as he tried to hide away from your affection. 

“Better eat that up, kid,” Dean laughed. “Doesn’t look like she gets all lovey dovey with just anyone.” Trevor groaned into his bowl and tried to implode. “Alright, don’t choke on your dinner, I’ll stop.” 

“I even have soap, oh my god,” you bounced in your chair, trying to shovel down your food as fast as you could. It wouldn’t be the best bath in the world, but at least you could clean the grime off of you without worrying about wasting good, clean drinking water.

Of course, you were the first to finish your meal, thanking the boys who cooked it and rushed to your pack to get out the bar of soap you found long ago. You searched the house for towels, several left behind by the previous owners and you sat some out for the guys for later. 

With towels in hand, you slipped outside at the peak of dusk. Trevor had returned to his room, most likely caught up in his book until his turn. The brothers, however, lingered in the kitchen, you could see their mouths moving through the window, but it was hard to make out what they were saying. Both had their gazes trained on you, so you had some idea what they were talking about. 

You peeled out of your clothes, tossing them aside to wash later. When you had nothing left on, you dipped your toes into the water, it was cold, but welcomed in the warm, summer evening. You fought against the chill and descended the stairs, walking until the waterline hit your mid-chest and you waded to the edge to grab your soap and washcloth. 

Never in your life had you loved soap and water more than in that moment. You took your time to scrub your body, twice even. And although it was probably crap for its health, you used the soap to wash your hair. 

By the time you got out of the water, had a towel wrapped around you and your hair, the boys were gone from the kitchen. You padded through the house, stopping by Trevor’s room to inform him the pool was free and you left what he needed. He hummed dismissively at you, but you pulled the book from his hands and scowled. Even though he rolled his eyes, he got up and went outside while you headed to you room.

Sam and Dean were sitting on the edge of the bed talking quietly when you entered. They looked up at the same time, near identical smiles on their faces. “Feel better,” Sam asked.

“Loads,” you groaned, walking next to them where you pack sat on the bed. “Trevor’s out there now, you might wanna wash up before it gets too dark.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, “we will. We just wanted to ask you a quick question before I’m forced to sleep on the couch.”

You tilted your head curiously, “I thought you were gonna sleep in here?” The brothers looked to you, then to each other, each giving a shrug before standing. “Washcloths and towels are outside,” you tell them and pulled out a small travel toothbrush and paste. One they were gone, you used a little of the bottled water you had to brush your teeth at the bathroom sink, Sam and Dean’s toiletries already scattered on the counter. So, they already knew your answer, but it was sweet that they asked.

Fresh and the best you’ve felt in days, you pulled on a clean shirt and fresh undies, leaving your hair in the towel. The pillows called your name, so you dumped all the packs on the floor and crawled up to rest your eyes for just a bit.

You’re not sure how long you were out, but you woke up some time later with Sam next to you, book in hand reading by a kerosene lantern clad only in a pair of boxers and Dean missing. “How long was I out,” you groaned, sitting up to pull your hair free from its hold.

“Couple of hours,” Sam shrugged, looking up from his book for a moment, “you can go back to sleep if you want. I’m on first watch.” 

You toss the towel over the side of the bed, running your fingers through your hair to fight with any tangles that lingered. “Where’s Dean,” you yawned, falling back onto the pillows when you won your battle. 

“Checking around outside,” Sam replied absently, his attention back on his book. 

“By himself,” you turned on your side to face him. 

He shook his head, “Trevor’s with him.” When you stiffened beside him, he reached out a hand and wrapped it around your wrist, a thumb running along your skin, “Relax, Dean will take care of him. He wouldn’t take him out there if he didn’t think he could handle it.” 

You let out a shaky breath, but focused on Sam’s touch to relax. He gave a gentle squeeze before releasing you and turned the page of his book. “I was gonna wash our clothes,” you mumbled but rolled onto your belly, smashing your face into the pillow.

“Already did,” Sam informed, “they’re drying outside.”

“Jesus, can you guys be any more perfect,” you whined.

Chuckling, he forced himself away from his book to look down at you, “We’re far from perfect.” You could see his gaze wandering, lingering on your backside once more. “You on the other hand…”

“Are nothing of the sort,” you yawned once more and wrapped your arms around the pillow, hugging it close. Sam hummed in reply, hesitation written on his face before he turned back to his book. “Whatcha’ readin’?”

“A Tale of Two Cities,” he shifted, moving just a bit closer to you. 

“And you’re still awake,” you snorted, taking his hint and squirming until you pressed up against his side bringing your pillow with you. His hand left the book once more and moved onto your back, absently rubbing as he continued to read. “You staying in here all night?”

“Just until Dean gets back,” he sighed. “Get some rest, we’ve got a long walk tomorrow.”

You rolled your eyes and snatched the book, careful to mark his place and tossed it on the nightstand. “Take your own advice, Sam,” you pulled him down to lay with you. It took some maneuvering, but eventually you got his long limbs wrapped around you and came face to face with his dopey smile. “Hey there.”

“Hey,” he returned, hazel eyes searching your face before falling on your lips. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Do you think I’d let you anywhere near me if I wasn’t,” you laughed. “I’m more than okay with it.” With your permission, warm, calloused hands slipped over your backside, gripping both cheeks and squeezed firmly. “I think you might have an infatuation.” 

“With your ass? Definitely,” he groaned, kneading the flesh and muscle. You pressed back into his touch, whimpering when he gave you a quick tap with the flat of his hand. “Nope, I’m obsessed.” 

Your laughter was eaten by his hungry mouth, teeth and tongue trying to devour you. He pulled you closer, his hold becoming more forceful with every lick into your mouth, so hard that you’re sure you’d have Sam sized bruises the next day. 

“Starting early, Sammy,” you heard from the doorway, laughter in Dean’s voice. 

Sam’s mouth left yours, but moved along to your jaw and down to your neck, “She started it.”

“Guilty,” you gasped when sharp teeth bit into your skin. “Where’s Trev?”

“In his room,” Dean replied accompanied by the sound of rustling clothes. “The kid did good. We cleaned up a few walkers that were headed our way. Gonna be an easy night, I think.” You could feel the bed dip as he climbed in behind you. 

“You smell like rain,” you noted, trying to crane your neck to get a look, but Sam stopped you, capturing your mouth with his again. 

“It’s sprinkling,” Dean confirmed, slipping his arms around your torso, his chest pressed against your back. Meaty hands cupped your breasts through your shirt, squeezing just fiercely as Sam on your ass. Devoid of a bra, his fingertips found your hardening buds through the thin cotton outline them with featherlight touches, a contrast to his firm grip. “Let her breath, Sam.”

Your mouth was released, but Sam was there to swallow your moans with devilish grin. “Don’t have too much fun with her, Dean,” he murmured against your lips, stealing quick kisses before untangling himself from the both of you to get dressed. You whined at the loss, pressing back against Dean for warmth and affection, but reached out to try and pull Sam back to you. “Someone’s gotta keep watch,” he winked, gathering his book and lamp from the nightstand. 

“But,” you frowned, eyes falling to the tent in his boxers.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured you, leaning back down for one more chaste kiss and slapped his brother’s arm with his book before he headed out of the room.

You sighed and turned in Dean’s hold, reaching up to cup his face and pulled him into a lazy, lingering kiss. He wasn’t expecting your initiative, but it wasn’t unwelcomed. His hands pushed under your shirt and spread along your back, fingertips dancing lightly on your heated skin. “We need to sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured when you parted, “as much as I don’t want to.”

And you hated to admit it, but he was right. If their bunker was as safe as they said it was, you’d have plenty of time to play. “Fine,” you pouted and scratched your nails along his scruffy jaw. “I want second watch.”

Dean pulled back and shook his head, “It’s fine, I got it.”

“You look like shit, too,” you grinned, kissing away the offended frown. “I’ll be fine after a few hours of sleep. You and Sam need a break.” Dean obviously didn’t like the idea and when it came time for Sam to switch out, there would probably be an argument, but he let it go, at least for now. 

His arms left you briefly for him to shift onto his back to get comfortable. You curled around him when he opened himself up to you and he wrapped you in his warm embrace once more, topping it off with a brief kiss, which turn into another. “If you want watch you, you’re gonna have to stop teasing,” Dean sighed. 

“‘Mnot teasing,” you grinned mischievously and tried straddle his waist, but two strong hands stopped you. 

“Sleep. I promise there will be plenty of that later.” You surrendered and kept to your space at his side with your head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. But thanks to the Georgia summer heat, at some point in the night you and Dean had separated, both rolled onto your stomachs.

Long, warm fingers woke you, dancing from your calf to your bottom, finishing with a smack. You mumbled in protest, but smiling lips traveled along your shoulders. “Sam,” you whined, trying to bat the hand away, but it held firm, “wanna sleep.”

“Dean said you wanted watch,” he chuckled, kissing the back of your head before pulling away.

You muttered a few explicit words, but eventually sat up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Dean was awake as well, a sour look on his face, but you slapped his bare chest and were rewarded with a grunt, “Go back to sleep.”

Sam stretched out on your other side, his hand creeping up your knee and thigh, squeezing it, “He’ll fall asleep eventually. Go on.” You nodded and climbed off the bed to dress, the feeling of their eyes burned into as you pulled on your jeans. 

“There’s a toll to leave this room,” Dean rasped, watching you pull on your boots. You tilted your head in confusion and he held a hand for you. When you took it, he pulled you back onto the bed and down for a languid kiss, your tongues sliding easily against the others, drawing out a whimper from you. 

Impatient, Sam pulled you away, replacing Dean’s mouth with his own, greedily licking into your mouth, teeth biting into your bottom lip. The contrast of their kisses made your head spin and your knees weak. “Fuck,” you breathed when Sam finally gave you up. “Okay, I need to go.” 

Sam chuckled when you climbed off his brother, both getting in one last touch of you before you could get too far out of reach, “Wake us if you need anything.” You mockingly saluted and slipped out of the room to let the brothers finally get some rest.

You spent the first part of your watch cleaning your gun by the lamp Sam left on. When that failed to kill more than a half hour, you lost yourself in a book, realizing it had been years since you actually cracked one open that wasn’t academic. 

The boys rose with the sun, finding you spread out on the couch, knees bent, book open and resting on your thighs. “Morning,” you greeted, tearing your eyes away for a moment to see a sleep rumpled Dean shuffle your way. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and headed to the kitchen to brew some coffee. 

Sam wasn’t far behind, his hair wild and mouth pulled wide in a yawn. He flopped down near your feet and wrapped a hand around your ankle. “Uneventful morning,” he asked, elbow propped up on the armrest, his head in his free hand.

“Nothing but the rain to keep me company,” you nodded. “Sleep well?”

“Would’ve slept better if someone wasn’t snoring,” Dean griped as he joined you, tapping on your shoulder for you to sit up, which you did. He took his place on the opposite end of his brother and you laid across him to continue reading.

“It’s a sinus problem,” Sam said defensively, “it’s not like I can help it.” Dean obviously didn’t care and still grumbled under his breath. “At least the rain stopped.” 

“I don’t want to get muddy,” you frowned, closing your book to join the boys staring out of the windows. “First proper bath I had in weeks.” Sam squeezed your calf in understanding before leisurely running his hand along your leg. 

“The bunker might still have running water,” Dean yawned. The thought made you perk up, but you still had to trek through miles of mud and zombies. “Wake the kid, I’ll put on grub.”

You rolled off the couch landing gracefully on your feet. Sam reached out to paw at your side and you batted him away with a wink. “I don’t think Trevor’s ready to see any of this,” you stated seriously. They seemed to understand, thankfully, and you headed to Trevor’s room. He was out and drooling on his pillow. “Hey, bud,” you shook him lightly, “up and at ‘em.” He grumpily swatted at you, but you knew he’d get up if you left him. 

Stretching your arms, you join Dean in the kitchen, hovering around the carafe heating on the burner. He slipped behind you, arms winding around your waist and his face tucked in your neck. Your hand reached around and dug into his hair, scratching at his scalp. “Sam,” you asked. 

“Went outside,” he breathed against your skin, teeth lightly grazing to draw a shiver out of you. “Trevor?”

“He’ll be up in a few minutes,” you replied, tilting your head to give him more room. A hot, thick tongue licked a wet stripe at your pulse before he sucked at you fervently. A breathless whine puffed out of you and you pushed back against him. “Dean,” you warned. His teeth bit down one last time, but he released his hold. 

Trevor joined you by the time Dean poured your cup of coffee. He shuffled and grumbled through the kitchen, finding his way to the table where he unceremoniously dropped into the chair and his head fell onto the table with a loud thud.

“I think we have a zombie in the house,” you teased, joining the teen at the table, rubbing at his back. Trevor didn’t bother to move or reply, just laid there and tried to wake. “Want some coffee?”

“No, it’s gross,” the boy mumbled. Dean nodded in agreement, sipping at the unflavored beverage with a wrinkled nose.

“Dean,” Sam shouted from the front door. All three of you turned to the sound, from your spot in the kitchen, you could see the worried look on his face. 

“Stay here, T,” you whispered to the boy, joining Dean on his way to his brother. Sam tried blocking your way, but you pushed passed with scowl that matched his. 

“What the fuck?” Dean was already across the lawn, staring up at the crucified zombie at the edge of the house’s fence. 

You froze on the spot, your blood running cold. “We need to go,” you whispered. “Now.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You head out to find Baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to get this chapter out yesterday, but things came up. It is shorter than the last two, but it's pretty much filler.
> 
> I would like to thank everyone, again, who's taking their time to read this. And extra special thanks to those leaving kudos and comments. I would really appreciate any and all feedback, it's a fuel that keeps the fire burning.
> 
> Thank you. <3

“It’s still alive,” Dean moved closer to the undead hanging from a crooked cross. “Well, undead alive.” As he neared, the zombie writhed in place, bony fingers wiggling and jaw snapping. The thing was starved, its bones visible underneath its rotting flesh. 

Sam narrowed his eyes at the nails holding the zed into place, “This was a message.” The pair circled the rooted cross and were able to lay it flat. 

You hadn’t moved since you spotted it, you couldn’t. Every muscle in your body froze as you watched the brothers examine the body and the cross, your quiet warning did nothing to alert them that something was wrong. You tried to speak, but even your vocal cords seized. 

“Y/N,” Dean called out to you, “can you look for a crowbar or something?” They were nose deep in their investigating that it took them nearly a full minute to realize that you hadn’t moved. “Y/N,” Dean repeated, finally looking up to see you still in shock. “Hey, are you okay?” 

They abandoned the body for the moment, rushing to your side. Sam was the first to reach you, taking your shoulders and trying to get your dazed expression to focus on him. “Hey,” he said gently, dipping down to get eye to eye. Your attention turned fully on him and he offered you a half smile, “There you are.”

“No,” you shook your head as you found your voice and stepped out of his reach, “we need to go.”

“Woah,” Dean stomped over to you and stopped your attempt to get away, “what’s going on? You know who did this?”

You looked briefly at the cross on the ground, a visible shiver ran through you, “Not exactly. I’ll explain when we get out of here.” Dean stopped you once more when you turned to head back into the house, his hand wrapped around your arm, but you jerked it free. “I’ll tell you,” you repeated through clenched teeth, “but we need to get going.”

The brothers shared a worried look between themselves but followed you into the house. You were a whirlwind, forcing Trevor to get dressed and packed, terse in your words and trying to not to look panicked for the boy. You gave him ten minutes to dress and be at the front door before you disappeared into the master bedroom to gather your stuff.

“Y/N,” Dean tried again, not reaching out to stop you, but his voice was wary, “sweetheart, you need to stop and take a breath. Tell us what this is all about.”

You did as he instructed, stopping in the threshold of the bathroom. “Matt and I were with a group when this first started,” you told them, looking pointedly over you shoulder to their packs, silently telling them to get their stuff together. “He and I shared a difference in a opinion and we parted.”

“So, you’ve got this Matt guy and these assholes after you,” Dean tried to suss out and moved with you into the bathroom, packing everything unceremoniously. 

“Not exactly,” you scrubbed your hands over your face. “The group we split off from was found just like that thing out there a few miles out of Atlanta. They were lined up along the highway, just hanging there.” Your mind flashed through the scene, you and Matt passing by, trying to shield Trevor’s eyes from the gore. The thought that it could’ve been you up there ghosted through your mind. “We saw more when we got closer to the city, but…” You swallowed thickly and tried not to throw up last night’s dinner.

“But,” Sam gently encouraged from the doorway.

“But they were alive,” you finished, looking up at Sam, the threat of tears stinging in your eyes. 

Sam’s face soured and he looked between you and Dean then in the vague direction of where the cross laid outside. “So, you’re saying…”

“I don’t want to think about it,” you snapped and a full body shiver ran through you. “Can we just get out of here?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said softly, tossing toiletry packs to Sam and moved over to you. He reached out cautiously and then pulled you into a tight hug when you didn’t fight him. “It’s gonna be alright,” he whispered in your ear. You relaxed in his hold, but only for a moment. 

“Y/N,” Trevor called out. 

Dean pressed a kiss to your forehead before he pulled away, joining Sam in the bedroom to gather their packs. You took a few moments for yourself before following them, grabbing your bag from Sam as you passed through the room and to the front door. “You keep close to Sam and Dean, alright? Whatever happens, you stay with one of them,” you told Trevor. He stared up you, confused, but he nodded. 

When the brothers joined you, Dean took point, Sam at the rear. The boys were on alert, their shoulders tense and heads on a shivle. The zombie on the cross was left behind, but not forgotten. “What about breakfast,” Trevor asked as you traveled out of the neighborhood and towards the highway. 

“There’s jerky in my pack.” You stepped in front so he could look through it, “We’re on a tight schedule, don’t want to get caught in the rain.” You were lying. Trevor knew you were lying. He searched through your pack anyway, pulling out a package and shared it with the rest of you when he had his fill.

Dean took you all to the main road, forgoing the plan to scavenge through the gas stations on the way. The open view was ideal for avoiding an ambush, but it left you all vulnerable to what might be lurking in the trees, but it was a risk that you all were willing to take. 

The Georgia humidity ate through you like you were marshmallow fluff. The thin shirt you had on was clinging to your skin, your jeans rubbing uncomfortably against your legs. The boys weren’t fairing much better, Sam’s hair was soaked and clinging to his sweat slicked face and Dean’s skin was flushed red. But poor Trevor was on the brink of whining, his face twisted uncomfortably as he tried to keep his discomfort quiet.

“Your bunker doesn’t have a pool, does it,” you asked, breaking the silence.

“Not that we found yet,” Dean said over his shoulder.

“Is it that big of a place,” you snorted. “A pool’s kind of hard to miss.”

“Yeah, actually, it is,” Sam replied. “But we really haven’t had the time to go through every door. It took us months to realize we had a garage.” You’re not sure whether you should be impressed or worried about the brothers’ lack of observational skills.

“Trevor can have his own room, though,” Dean added. “And if the power’s still going, we might even have air conditioning.”

You groaned longingly at the idea, “Yes. I’d sell my soul of some AC again.”

“It’s dangerous to say stuff like that,” Sam poked your shoulder. “People have actually sold their soul of less. Demons might take you seriously.” You somehow knew he wasn’t kidding, so you made a mental note to never joke about your soul.

Your question seemed to lighten the mood and Trevor fell back to Sam, starting his questioning once more. Thankfully it was nothing supernatural related, more on history and nothing you wanted to listen to, at least right now, so you found yourself next to Dean, wary of the treeline.

“How you holdin’ up,” he asked, voice low.

“I feel like we’re being followed,” you answered honestly. “I’ve got that prickly feeling on the back of my neck, like all the hair’s standing up.” He nodded knowingly, taking a moment to survey their surroundings. “And if they found us in the middle of fucking nowhere, it means we’ve got a tail.”

From the look on Dean’s face, he knew it, too. “So, what in the hell do they want?”

“Who knows,” you frowned, “but I really don’t want to find out.” Dean hummed in agreement and the pair of you fall silent, getting lost in the conversation going on behind you. While Sam’s tone was as light as it ever was, the set of his shoulders made it seem like he was worried, but all of that had been lost on Trevor.

When the sun was at its highest, Dean decided that it was time for a small break and lunch. He lead out off the road and into the woods, the three of you making a perimeter around Trevor. Several yards in you came across a clearing, Dean taking it upon himself to secure the surroundings while you set up and cooked the meal, and thanks to Sam, Trevor was still oblivious to all of your worries.

The last thing you wanted in the heat was soup, but it was the first thing you pulled out and you weren’t in the mood to be picky. No one else seemed to mind it, either, or if they did, they were wise enough to keep their mouth shut because the set of your face looked like you were close to ripping someone apart.

Your rest was short lived, though, just long enough to eat and rest your feet before Dean was collecting everyone to keep going. 

The heat of the day was harsh on everyone, Trevor’s enthusiasm waned as he trekked on. Your tightly formed group had spread, the body heat radiating off of others was too much. Every move you made was uncomfortable, the fabric of your clothes rubbed you the wrong way, the flies buzzing around you made you want to punch an infant. You hated your life and you half prayed for a walker to jump out and rip into you so it could all end.

“Jasper, 15 miles,” Trevor read aloud. “There is a god.”

“We’ve got another few hours to walk, kid,” Dean grunted, shifting his pack, “don’t get too excited. And God’s a dick, FYI.” Normally, you would’ve laughed and made some sarcastic comment, but you didn’t want to move any part of your body that you didn’t have to. 

Every step you made sent another annoyed shiver down your spine, every puff Sam made had your skin crawling, and every snap of a twig in the woods to your far sides made your jaw tick. “Okay,” you stopped in your tracks, rolling your shoulders and twisting your neck so it popped. “I need to punch something or I’m going to scream.”

“Y/N,” Sam tried to soothe, “we’ve got a couple more hours, you’ll be able sit down and relax then.”

“I’ll punch you,” you turned to him with a frown your face. 

“If it’ll make you feel better,” he shrugged, shifting his weight so he could take any hit you sent his way.

You rolled your eyes and shrugged off your pack, wiggling your limbs and letting out a loud, frustrated groan. “I’m hot and gross and just want all of this to be over,” you whined like spoiled child with the three of them watching you impatiently.

“Are you done,” Dean sighed.

“Yes,” you nodded and gathered your things, scowl set on your face. The brothers continued on, but Trevor stayed behind to make sure you were all settled. “Sorry,” you apologized with a heavy exhale. 

Trevor shook his head, “Sometimes we all gotta cry like a baby, it’s fine.” He obviously meant it all in jest, but you narrowed your eyes and swatted at his arm with a growl. The two of you were so caught up in your banter that you didn’t notice Dean and Sam stop. You ran into the back of Dean and you opened your mouth to object to his halt, but then you saw why.

The largest blockade you’ve ever seen in person ran from one edge of the forest’s edge to the other, the entire road cut off by a makeshift wall of plywood and mismatched metal sheets. In the center was a gate that was guarded by two watchtowers, an armed man in each. “Stop right there,” one shouted down to you.

“Yeah,” Dean shouted back, “already are. Look, we don’t wanna cause any trouble, just need to pass through to get to our car.”

The men trained their guns on the four you, “Can’t nobody enter without a toll.”

“And what is it, exactly,” Sam asked, stepping in front of Trevor. 

“Whatcha got,” the one in the blue baseball cap laughed. 

“Just food, clothes,” Sam replied. “You can have whatever you want, we just need to get through.”

The men laughed harder, the assault rifles shaking in grip, “You’ve got something better than that.” You wouldn’t even need to waste a guess to know what they were talking about.

Dean’s face hardened and he closed ranks with his brother, the pair shielding you and Trevor. “Like I said, buddy, we don’t want any trouble. We’ll give you our food, a couple tanks a gas and be on our way.” 

One of the men laughed harder and climbed down the ladder from his tower. He sauntered over to the four of you, rifle slung behind his back and walked straight into Dean’s face, sizing him up. Even though Dean had a few good inches in height, the stranger was broader and slung his weight around. “If you wanna get through, how ‘bout you turn your head away for a few minutes and let us have what we want,” he grinned, looking right passed Dean and straight to you.

“Yeah, not gonna happen,” Sam squared up to his full height, looming over the guy with a murderous look on his face. 

“Look, friend,” the guy laughed, “it ain’t nothin’, alright? Just a little fun and you’ll be on your way. Looks like she can take it, can’t you, sweetheart?”

Dean huffed and stepped into the man’s space, the safety clicking off of the other watchman’s gun, but shoots were yet to be fired. “Don’t you dare talk to her again,” he growl, voice venomous, “or you and me are going to have a real problem. How about you go back to whatever backwater pit you came from and let us go about our business?”

“‘Friad I can’t do that,” the guy smiled, “a toll’s a toll.”

What happened next was in the blink of an eye. Sam’s hand went to his waistband, the shot ringing in the air less than a second later and the bullets pierced through Blue Cap’s chest. Trevor crying out from the echo, hiding into your chest.

Dean had gotten the perv on the ground and was beating the poor guy’s face in. 

You had yourself wrapped around Trevor, shielding him from sight and covered his ears with your hands. You could hear the sound of skin on skin and painful groans. It was Sam that eventually got it to stop, pulling his brother off of the guy. “It’s over, Dean,” he grunted, wrestling with the older man until he relented and got up.

“Don’t look, alright,” you quietly told Trevor and the teen nodded, turning around and sorting through his pack for a book. He was a teenager in a world gone crazy, he could handle it, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to. Killing a zombie was one thing, but another human being? He didn’t need that blood on his hands.

The guard was groaning on the ground, holding his surely broken nose, blood splattered everywhere. You thought for a second to help him, at least to reset his nose, but his words still rang in your ears and you thought the better of it and went to Dean. 

“Let me look at it,” you insisted as he flexed his hand. He was still pumping with adrenaline, pacing when you got to him. It took him a few seconds to register what you were saying before he stopped in front of you, holding out his hand. You lightly brushed over his fingers and knuckles, feeling for anything out of place. “You’ll be fine,” you determined and kissed the blood knuckle. “Can’t say the same for him.”

Dean nodded stiffly and moved over to the guard to relieve him of his gun and anything else on him while you checked on Sam. “Are you alright,” you frowned as you caught him staring off into the woods. 

He blinked and looked down at you, a tight smile on his face. “I’ll be fine,” he answered, but his voice was strained. 

“You just shot someone, Sam,” you said quietly, eyes darting quickly over to Trevor and luckily the boy was caught up in his book. 

“I’ll be okay, just…” You cut him off, reaching up to take his face in your hands to force him to look at you. Quiet stares were exchanged until he nodded, nuzzling slightly in your touch. “We need to keep going, there might be more of these guys around.”

Dean seemed to think the same and called Trevor over to help him open the gate while Sam climbed up to take whatever the other gatekeeper had on him. You should have felt guilty for looting a dead man, but it was what the world had come to.

With two new assault rifles and a spare bit of ammo, you continued on your way along the highway as the day wore on, the sun slowly setting. According to Dean, you wouldn’t make it to the car until after sundown and there was vote to whether you all should keep pushing or make camp when dusk started to hit.

Trevor didn’t like the idea of roaming around in the dark trying to find a car, but you all were far from any exits and there were no homes in sight of you. It was either camp in the dark or head for the car and at least have something cover you in the night. He eventually conceded and you all continued your way to the town of Jasper when twilight was just beginning. 

“She was here,” Dean gasped, looking up and down the crossroads with not a car in sight, especially his. “There were tons of them, all lined up, out of gas, doors opened. They were here.” He looked to Sam who seemed to be just as in shock as he was. “Son of bitch!”

Defeated, Trevor dropped down in the middle of the road and crossed his legs. Like everyone, he was hot and tired and he just wanted to go to sleep. “So now what,” he grumbled.

“We’re going to find her,” Dean declared. “We’re going to find her and I’m going to kill whoever took her. It’ll be a slow, painful death.”

“Calm down,” Sam sighed, scratching at his jaw, “there were tons of cars here, it couldn’t have been just one person. But uh… where are all the zombies? We haven’t seen one for miles.” You lifted a brow in thought as you realized that he was right. 

But you soon got your answers when a Humvee pulled up, lights shining across the four of you, catching you all like deer. “This is Sergeant Carlos Castillo,” came the voice over the speaker, “put your hands up where I can see them.” Trevor immediately popped up from his spot on the ground, arms held up high, with you and the brothers following suit. “We are with the United States Special Forces from Camp Merrill. We can provide you food and shelter, but we will need to check for any injuries and all weapons will be surrendered.”

Dean looked to Sam and they both looked to you. You shook your head. “Sorry,” the eldest called out, “we’re good on our own, just looking for our car.”

“This isn’t an option,” Sergeant Castillo replied. “Our orders are to find survivors and bring them back to camp.” You could hear a conversation being exchanged in the background and the sergeant continued. “Miss, will you please step forward?” You didn’t. “Ma’am, I’m going to ask you one more time, politely. Please step forward and identify yourself.” You could hear the echoing of the safety clicking off a gun.

With a heavy sigh, you stepped forward with your hands in the air. “Y/F/N Y/L/N, Sergeant First Class,” you shouted out.

There was rustling over the speaker and you heard familiar voice ring out, “Y/N/N?”

You dropped your arms and squinted into the light, “Becks?”

“Shoot her,” she said and your world went white.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You clue the brothers in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry that it took so long to get this out. I had some hiccups with getting to where I wanted to go, but we got there. It’s the calm before the storm, boys and girls, buckle up.
> 
> Thank you for your patience and even more so for reading this. Any and all feedback is appreciated. I love you all. Big, big hugs to you.

The bullet ricocheted off of the pavement at your feet shooting up sparks and bounced into your right shin. Pain flared through you, the blood, warm and wet, ran down your leg and the only thought that ran through your mind and out of your mouth was, “Holy fuck!”

Through the speakers of the humvee you could hear the argument between Becks and Castillo, the rustle of several people wrestling, and it was obvious that the soldiers attention were no longer on the four of you.

Dean rushed next to you to crouch and examine the wound. “It’s not in deep,” he tried to sound calm and reassuring, but from the set of his shoulders and jaw, he was livid. He dropped his pack on the ground and pulled out the cleanest shirt he could find to rip up.

“Trev, my bag,” you hissed and wiggled out of the straps with as little effort as possible. He dropped to his knees next to Dean and fished out a bottle of mouthwash and the gauze you scavenged the day you first met the brothers. “Help me sit?”

“We can get her medical attention,” Castillo called over the loudspeaker. “But we’ll need you to surrender your weapons.”

“You fucking shot her,” Sam hollered back. “We’re not going anywhere with you!”

Dean cut off the bottom of your pant leg when you were settled on the ground as Trevor opened the gauze and you poured the mouthwash over the wound. Another round of white hot pain coursed through you and you bit down on your wrist to stop your cry. “That’a girl,” Dean praised as he cleaned the cut for you. 

“This is not a request,” Castillo insisted. “You’ll be coming with us either way, might as well be on friendly terms.”

“Give us a goddamn minute,” Dean shouted over his shoulder. You applied pressure with a fresh patch of gauze and Dean wrapped the strip of his shirt around your leg, ending it with the tightest knot he could muster. “You good?”

You nodded weakly and stood with help from the pair of them. “Sam,” you said evenly. He turned to you with a furrowed brow, but eventually he relented. 

“Make your way to the humvee,” Castillo instructed. “Slowly.”

“Kind of hard to rush with a hole in my leg,” you shouted back but took the help offered by Sam and hobbled towards the jeep behind Dean and Trevor. Once you made it within their reach, Castillo’s men stripped all of you of your packs and weapons. “Becks?”

“Subdued,” the one labeled Johnson told you. 

The brothers helped you in and crowded around you once you settled, leaving Trevor pinned up to the side next to Sam. All four of you came face to face with Castillo and a zip-tied Staff Sergeant Andrea Becks. She watched you limp in with her lip curled up in the most disgusted snarl a human could manager. “You tried to shoot me. Are you insane?”

“You’ve got a bullet in you, I think I did more than try,” she sneered. 

“You shot the ground,” you corrected her. “It bounced off and hit me. Technically, the ground shot me.”

“The ground can’t shoot you,” she spat back. 

“But it did,” you trilled mockingly, head turned away from her glowering face.

“I should’ve shot you in the head!” She struggled against her restraints and tried to kick your wounded leg, but luckily she didn’t have the reach.

“Alright, put the fucking claws away,” Castillo sighed. “We’re about an hour away from camp. We’ll get you patched up, but then you’re going to report to Captain Thomas.”

Your head snapped back to Becks and your gaze narrowed at her triumphant smirk. “Is he…” you asked vaguely and her face immediately fell.

“I thought he was with you,” she shook her head. “But then you came rolling up with these three. You got him killed, didn’t you?” You refused to answer her and looked away once more. If the air between you wasn’t tense enough before, it turned palpable then. 

For the rest of the ride, the only sound was the hum of the Jeep as it rolled towards Camp Merrill. The last time you had been to the training grounds was nearly a year ago and it had changed since then. Fortifications had been made to the perimeter gate, more watchtowers had been added with spotlights lighting up the surrounding areas.

“They have lights,” Trevor gasped, his face pressed up against the window. 

The open field that had once been used for drills had been converted to a refugee camp, tents and RV’s lined up in several rows. Children were out playing with pets and each other, adults mingled or finished up their chores, it was as if nothing ever happened outside of those gates and they were all on extended vacation. 

“Don’t they look happy,” Dean grumbled. 

“Better than miserable and dying out there,” Castillo countered. 

The four of you were dropped off in front of the clinic with two armed guards that lead you inside. Trevor volunteered to be your crutch and you could feel the tightness in his shoulders, he was scared and concerned, but you gave him your best smile to ease his worry. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.

“Y/N,” another familiar voice called out. “Somebody get a wheelchair!”

Your face lit up when you realized who was headed your way. “Rizo!” The stocky Italian beefcake rushed you towards you and squeezed the breath out of you. “Yeah, I’m happy to see you, too, but I’ve got a hole in my leg.” 

He pulled back and looked down with a frown. “They said you were dead.” Somehow, that news didn’t surprise you. “Do I want to know who did this to you?”

“I’ll give you one guess.” 

Rizo narrowed his gaze but the wheelchair was delivered and he forced you into it. He finally acknowledged your companions, “You’re gonna have to stay out here. There’s a waiting room down that hall.” He jutted his chin towards his left. 

“Yeah, not happenin’, pal,” Dean growled, he and Sam squared up. They were obviously sick of being ordered around and the thought of splitting up was not appealing. Rizo was shorter than both, double the mass, with just as much bit and it looked like he wasn’t going to back down, either.

“Guys, you can trust him, I promise,” you insisted. They turned their attention to you, several silent questions were shot your way. “It’s fine.” Even with your reassurance, they didn’t like being split, but they took Trevor and headed down to the hall to wait.

Rizo pushed you into the first empty room and helped you onto the table. “So, are you going to tell me what happened,” he told you nonchalantly, undoing Dean’s wrap job. 

“That psycho tried to shoot me.”

“You know what I mean,” he snapped. “Where in hell did you two go?” You sighed and shook your head. “Thomas went crazy looking for you guys, sent his best squad and we nearly fell apart. We barely made it out of there, a lot of good people. Don’t fucking shake your head at me. I stayed and buried our friends, Y/N. I had to deal with the loss.”

You remained silent as Rizo worked out the bullet and you swore he dug around a little more than he had to on purpose. He cleaned and bandaged the wound properly all while silently fuming over your refusal of an explanation. “Rizo,” you started, but he interrupted it by dumping supplies into your lap. 

He helped you back into the wheelchair and pushed you back to your friends but left without another word. “Everything okay,” Sam asked as you all stared at Rizo’s retreating back. 

“They’ve been better,” you confessed with a shrug. Dean opened his mouth to question you further, but you shot him a warning look. A quick flicker of your gaze to Trevor’s anxious face gave him your reasoning, but you knew once you were alone, you’d have to tell them what was going on. 

“Captain wants to see you,” one of your guards informed you. 

Sam and Dean rounded on the guy, both looking like they were ready to swing. “She just got shot, asshole. You tell your captain he can wait,” Dean snapped.

“Unless you want to sleep outside on the ground, then I suggest you meet with him,” soldier Johnson informed you. You reluctantly agreed and were carted off from the clinic to the administration building. A mixture of soldiers and civilians were passed along the way, commingling and unaware of who you are or why you were there. 

However, a very pissed off Captain Thomas knew exactly who you were, but why you were there, he was trying to figure out. “You were the last person I’d thought I’d see today,” he laughed mirthlessly as he leaned against the front of his desk to glare down at you. 

Your guards had the brothers and Trevor crowded into a corner much to their dismay. Not that Thomas would have the balls to do anything, not without getting the information you knew he wanted. “Life is full of surprises, isn’t it,” you returned with a tight smile. 

“You seem to be missing someone, though.” He recognized your companions for the first time, his gaze lingering on Trevor which made the teen recoil slightly. “You leave with my best soldier and have my second best sent back to me in handcuffs when you’re supposed to be dead.” He pushed off of his desk and stepped into your orbit. “Wanna tell me what happened out there?”

When he dropped down to your level, your sarcastic smile melted and you watched him with an even stare. “We were just trying to find their car,” you tilted your head in the general direction of the brothers, “and then your boys rolled up and Becks decided to shoot me.”

“Any reason why she’d want to do that,” Thomas asked.

“Because she’s mentally unstable,” you offered sweetly.

Apparently that was not what he was looking for as he rushed forward and slammed his hands on the arms of the wheelchair. Sam and Dean cried out in protest, but the guards pushed them back with the butt of their guns. “There’s a million different things I could do to you, but I’m not. I’m going to give you your own place, let heal up until you’re tip top, and let you think nice and hard about giving me what I want.” He flashed you a tight smile of his own and nodded to your guards. “You know my motto, Y/N,” he called out to you when your escorts pushed you out of the office, “Kill ‘em with kindness.”

“He’s not going to really kills us, is he,” Trevor whimpered when you were out of the office and far from Thomas.

“Not if he wants to stay the benevolent leader,” you calmed him or at least attempted to. When you were lead through the community passed the tents and trailers, you started to worry. You were heading to officer housing, nestled deep with people that might have a grudge against you and, even worse, under orders from Thomas.

But you stopped in front of single story carbon copy suburban home, complete with front porch rockers and hanging swing. “Home sweet home,” Johnson deadpanned as he shoved your packs back into your possession. 

“That’s it,” Sam questioned cautiously. “No threats?”

“No one’s going to kill you,” the other guard, Ortiz, scoffed. “Becks went overboard, but I guess she had her reasons.” He eyed you warily, but helped you out of the chair and up the steps. “Just make sure you don’t piss off anyone else.”

“Commissary is open at 0700,” Johnson added. He tossed the house keys to Dean and left with Ortiz on his heels.

“What’s a commissary,” Trevor asked, eyes still on the two guards. 

“It’s like a grocery store,” Dean answered as he unlocked the door. “Stay,” he ordered before he and Sam swept the house twice over and deemed it safe. “There’s a generator in the basement.”

“Real showers,” you moaned and tottered inside. The foyer was flanked by the sitting room to the left, the kitchen and small dining room to the right. Further down the hall was the first guestroom and the bathroom and at the very end was the master. 

Sam gathered your things to drop them off in the room while you slowly but surely made it to the nearest seat with a little help from Trevor. Dean had disappeared downstairs once more to get the generator going because while the pool bath was nice, actual clean water would be nicer. So, when the lights turned on, you pushed Trevor towards the hall. “Go relax, have a shower.” He was hesitant, and he had every right to be, but you held up your pinkie finger and he knew what it meant. 

After a tight hug, he was gone to set up his new room and pretend that life was okay, at least for the moment. And that left you with your leg propped up on the table and soon at the mercy of who confused and very upset Winchesters. “You alright,” Sam asked before they began their interrogation. The pain was there, throbbing through your leg, but at least it wouldn’t get infected and fall off, so you nodded. “So…”

“I was stationed in Fort Benning before this crap started. I finally got some leave, so Matt and I went to Savannah for a bit, but then some asshole decides to die and come back to eat a dude’s face off. So, we start heading back towards the base and meet that group that I told you about, and took them with us. They were sick of traveling, didn’t want to keep going, decided to stay with another group that we thought was safe at a campgrounds on the way. Matt wanted to get to Benning, wanted to see if anything was left, so we kept going and got there and, what do you know, it was.” You worried your lip with your teeth and did your best to avoid their hard stares.

“Benning is THE base for Army Rangers,” you explained. “You know, best of the best that think they know what’s what and some of them did, a lot of them, actually. They took in a lot of survivors, kept the place orderly, but it started to split down the middle. Some of the higher ups wanted to go full totalitarian, you know? Soldiers lead and survivors worked to the bone. The other half wanted to keep democracy going, co-exist and live all happy and healthy and try not to get eaten.”

Dean grunted , “Sounds familiar.”

“Thomas made Matt his second in command, had him try to convert all the best troops to his side and he succeeded more often than not. I always told him that’d he make a better politician than a soldier,” you laughed softly and fell quiet. The boys let you have your moment and you continued after you cleared your throat. “All that hippie shit that Thomas wanted wasn’t going to happen until he could gain control and that meant a war. I wasn’t about to fight my friends, my fucking brothers and sisters, so I left. And Matt followed.”

You dared to look up and while Dean’s face was still stone straight, Sam gave you a sympathetic smile. “Where does Becks fit in?”

“She was Matt’s right hand, followed him around like a little lost duck, totally in love with him” you grimaced. 

“So she wants to kill you because you took away her boyfriend that was actually your boyfriend,” Dean said slowly as he tried to follow the logic. “Or is it because Matt didn’t come back with you?”

You shrugged, “Maybe a bit of both. She was kind of obsessed with him. Like showed up to the same restaurants as us on date night obsessed.”

“Matt must be a hell of a guy,” Dean quipped, his voice dripped with sarcasm.

Sam sneered at his brother before he turned to you, “But Trevor said that Matt left you two alone, took your food and guns.”

“Yeah,” you replied stiffly, “he did.”

Dean leaned forward and licked his lips, annoyed, “But you’re not gonna tell us why, are you?”

“Does it matter,” you shot back, “he’s gone. He might be dead. Who fucking cares?” 

Sam took a deep breath and moved from the couch to sit in front of you. “Thanks for cluing us in.” His voice was a gentle as his smile and he reached out to take one of your hands. “Think you can stand long enough for a shower?” The thought had crossed your mind, but you had a feeling that you’d pass out from the pain and the day’s stress before even got to wash your hair. When you shook your head, Sam nodded his. “Then I’ll take you to bed.” 

You were carefully scooped out of the chair and taken down the hall. Trevor’s signing could be heard from his bathroom, loud and happy and off-key. You didn’t fight the smile on your face and Dean, who followed the both of you, shouted a ‘hell yeah’ as you passed resulting in a laugh from the teen.

Sam set you down at the foot of the bed and began to strip you of your clothes with no objection from you. Your ruined jeans were first to go, pulled carefully down your leg and you steadied yourself with a grip to his arms as you stepped out of them. And even though you could get out of your shirt on your own, he insisted on pulling it over your head and tossed Dean’s way. 

Your head was cupped by two massive hands and Sam leaned down to meet your lips with is own. Just like your last, his tongue hungrily sought out yours, scraped by his teeth and sucked on greedily. 

“Don’t keep her standing,” Dean scolded his brother and forced the two of you to part. You turned to pout at him, but were met by what seemed to be miles of bare skin and every thought you had was erased. “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you into bed.” It was his turn to pick you up, careful to cradle your injured leg and placed you in the middle of the mattress.

“Thank you,” you whispered and coaxed him in for a kiss of his own that he happily accepted. Dean took his time to explore every inch of your mouth as his rough, thick fingers danced across the bare skin of your stomach. You arched into the touch, almost blind to the pain it caused, and whimpered.

“Mm and that’s where we stop,” Dean murmured against your lips. You shook your head, you didn’t want to stop. You threaded your fingers into his hair to pepper kisses on his lips and cheeks, but he eventually pulled out of your reach. “You need your rest.”

The bed dipped on your other side and Sam’s eager hands skimmed along your thigh. “Yeah, sleep,” he hummed while his fingers tugged at the waistband of your panties. 

“Sam,” Dean warned with a slap to his brother’s hand. “We’re going to bed. We can have fun in the morning.”

“Morning? That’s so far away,” you whined, but every time Sam tried to touch you, Dean knocked him away. 

“Sleep,” Dean growled again and covered most of your body with his own to keep his brother’s wandering hands away, careful of your leg. Sam, of course, shoved his brother away and the two slap fought over your prone body until Dean got a good hit on his brother’s face, right on the nose. 

You frowned and reached up for Sam’s face to pull him down to kiss his nose. “That was mean, Dean,” you scolded. Your arms wrapped around the younger Winchester to cradle him against your chest and pet his hair.

“He started it,” Dean grumbled defensively and scooted away from the both of you to pout. 

“Don’t be a baby, Dean,” Sam chided. He popped his head up and reached over to poke at the other man’s shoulder until Dean rolled back to cuddle at your side. “We’ll sleep.”

Satisfied that the two of you would behave, Dean pressed a kiss to your forehead before he settled with an arm around your waist. You reached up to scratch lightly at his scruff with one hand, the other carded through Sam’s hair. It didn’t take long before you were surrounded by soft snoring and you stayed there, staring at the ceiling to enjoy the warmth and safety.

The smell of coffee and bacon pulled you from sleep and you realized you were alone. Your leg was throbbing, but you managed to slip out of bed to a waiting pair of crutches leaning against the footboard. 

When you managed to hobble down the hall to the kitchen, Trevor jumped up from his seat to pull a chair out for you and helicoptered until you sat next to him. “Relax, T,” you laughed. You pushed him into his chair and patted his cheek with a wink.

“We were going to surprise you with breakfast in bed.” He looked to the brothers who busied themselves cooking, “They said you needed rest.”

Sam dropped off a hot cup of coffee and a bottle of pills. “Your friend stopped by with the crutches and these,” he explained as you picked them up to examine. “He said he didn’t want you to die. Again.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, but you thanked Sam for the drink and popped a Tylenol 3. “Dean almost punched him.”

“Why am I not surprised,” you grinned. You twisted in your seat to watch Dean work the scrambled eggs in the pan. “What did he do?”

“I just don’t like the guy,” he admitted. “He rubs me the wrong way. What’s his deal anyway?”

“He was my protege,” you said with your best snooty accent. “I trained a lot of the Ranger medics. He was about to take the exam before shit got real. And then I left him to deal with the whole Benning thing. He has every right to be mad at me.”

Dean frowned but remained quiet. You turned back and picked up a piece of bacon to chew when he started again. “Are there any other dudes we should know about?”

You laughed, but the look on Sam’s face told you they were serious. “First of all, Rizo was just trainee, alright? And super gay. Second of all, Matt was… Matt’s gone and that’s it. No one else, I promise.”

Trevor’s curious gaze bounced between the three off you, the wheels in his head turning, and when the settled on a plausible answer, he quickly shook his head and hid into the comfort of his arms on the table. “T,” you sighed. “It’s…” He covered his ears and started a string of ‘la la la’s’. 

Sam gave you a guilty smile, but Dean wasn’t fazed by it when he set your plate in front of you. “He’s a big boy,” he told the both of you, “he’ll understand it soon enough.” He ruffled Trevor’s curls and moved back to the stove to finish up. 

“Adults are so weird,” Trevor whined from his hidey hole. 

“You’ll find a nice, pretty girlfriend soon, Trevor,” Dean called out. “Or boyfriend,” he added with a shrug. “Either way, you’ll want to be an adult then and when you do… Sammy and I will be there to threat him or her with our very real guns and you’ll be so embarrassed. It’ll be great.”

You sighed and reached out to rub at Trevor’s shoulders. “Don’t listen to him. I will be the one to threaten them,” you assured him. “And if they break your heart, they will die.”

“Y/N!” Trevor cried out as he sat up and away from you, “You can’t just go around killing people!”

“They’ll never find the body,” you promised. “No one will ever know.” Trevor let out another complaining whine. “You’ll thank me when it happens.” You watched him snatch up his plate and rush off to his room. “I love that kid, dammit.”

Dean took Trevor’s seat with a content sigh and pushed a fork into your hands. “He’s a good egg,” he agreed. “And worried about you. Do you think this place is safe enough?”

His sudden change in topic caught you off guard and the question was a weighted on. “I don’t know. Thomas has it out for me, even if he has us set up all nice and safe. I don’t know what the long game is for him, but it can’t be good, at least not for me. This place seems to be organized and running well so far, though.”

“There’s but,” Sam interjected.

“But what happens when the space runs out and the food runs low? It’s nice and happy now, but shit’s going to hit the fan and I’m not sure if I want to stay to see that happen,” you admitted. “And I want to know how they got here from the shit show at Benning.” From what Rizo said yesterday, it may have cost more than you probably wanted to know. But the brothers remained silent and dug into their meal which you followed suit. 

Full and numb to the pain, you found your way to the couch, stretched along its length with your head in Sam’s lap as he read. Dean had your guitar in his hands and plucked absently at the strings and you hummed along. 

For now, your life was domesticated bliss and you wondered just how long it was going to last.


End file.
